POV: Beth
Night swallowed us without mercy.
The sea was black glass beneath a moon like a silver coin. Lanterns swayed, ropes creaked, and crew members staggered drunk on fresh victory. I stayed awake—sleep felt impossible with anger coiled in my ribs like a serpent.
I sat alone at the bow again, toy boat from Maregrave tucked in my pocket, thumb tracing splintered wood. Every time my fingers brushed it, resolve sharpened.
Rowan. Execution. Prince Adrian. Fire. Screams.
Storm Bride. Sea Daughter.
Waves murmured—almost like whispers.
Some nights I thought the ocean spoke back.
Footsteps approached softly. Alaric’s voice, low, careful. “Beth.”
I didn’t turn. “I’m enjoying the peace. Don’t ruin it.”
“Peace?” he echoed. “On a pirate deck?”
He tried to sound amused. It cracked. I heard exhaustion under it—frustration, maybe guilt. He leaned on the rail beside me, without invitation.
“I didn't come to argue,” he said.
“So why did you?”
He hesitated. “Because you look like you’re ready to set the world on fire and use the embers to keep warm.”
I exhaled through my nose. “Maybe I am.”
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
Then—BOOM. Not cannon. Deeper. Older. A sound like the earth splitting underwater.
The ship lurched violently. Crew screamed awake. Lanterns swung madly, throwing frantic shadows across sails. I grabbed the rail to stay upright.
“What was that?” someone shouted.
Water churned violently beside the hull—black sea rising in a sudden column. Alaric cursed under his breath. “No. No, no, no.”
My skin went cold. “What?”
Kaine ran from below deck, sword drawn. “Something’s under us!”
The sea itself convulsed, waves heaving like something massive rolled beneath. The ship groaned—wood bending under unseen pressure.
Then I saw it.
A shadow beneath the water. Vast. Writhing.
Larger than anything living should be.
“The Kraken,” someone choked.
A massive tentacle broke the surface—slick black, thicker than the mast, lined with pale suckers like rows of staring eyes. It slammed into the water beside us, sending a tower of spray into the air.
Screams tore across the deck.
“READY THE CANNONS!” Alaric roared. “MOVE!”
Men scrambled, crashing into each other. Powder spilled. Someone dropped a torch. I lunged and kicked it away before it ignited —
Another boom—water exploding outward as a second tentacle rose, curling toward us like a serpent preparing to strike.
My breath hitched. “It’s watching us.”
“Don’t freeze,” Alaric snapped, grabbing my arm. His eyes burned wild, fear buried under command. “If you freeze, you die. Understand?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
The Kraken crashed down on the stern—wood shattered like bone. The ship bucked hard; I fell, palms skinned on the deck. Men slid across planks, clinging to ropes, screaming as a few vanished overboard into foaming dark.
Kaine swung his sword at a tentacle wrapping the railing, slicing deep—black blood sprayed warm across my cheek. The Kraken recoiled with a shriek that vibrated my bones.
Cannons fired. BOOM. BOOM. Smoke filled the air thick as fog.
A tentacle snapped across deck like a whip—caught a pirate mid-run and hurled him screaming into the sea.
My heart slammed so hard I tasted metal.
Another tentacle curled toward Alaric—fast—too fast.
I ran.
I don’t remember deciding—I just moved. I threw myself against him, shoving us both aside. The tentacle crashed where he’d been, ripping up planks.
We hit the deck hard. Alaric’s hand caught my waist, pulling me close without thinking. Eyes locked—too close—too alive—too much.
He breathed, “You— you saved—”
A roar drowned him out.
The Kraken rose higher—full body breaching sea like a nightmare. Eyes the size of shields glowed faintly, reflecting lantern light. It towered over us, impossibly tall, tentacles writhing like colossal shadows.
It wasn’t attacking randomly. It was searching.
And when its gaze swept across deck—it stopped on me.
My blood froze. The world narrowed.
“Beth,” Alaric whispered, noticing. “Get back.”
“I—” My voice died.
Because I felt something impossible —
A pull.
Not fear. Not exactly.
Recognition.
Tentacles hovered instead of striking. The Kraken leaned closer, water pouring off it in waterfalls. Crew trembled. No one breathed.
It blinked once—slow—deliberate—like a creature recognizing its own.
And then—with a rumble that shook the sea—it slid back into the depths.
Gone.
Waves rocked violently then stilled.
Silence.
Every pirate stared at me like they’d seen a ghost crawl out of my skin.
Kaine spoke first, voice hoarse. “Why didn’t it kill you?”
No one asked why it didn’t kill Alaric. Or the crew. They only looked at me.
Like maybe I called it. Like maybe I could again.
Mira stepped forward, eyes narrow. “What are you really, Beth?”
I opened my mouth—no answer came.
Alaric stepped between us suddenly, gaze locked on mine, unreadable storm behind silver eyes. Fear. Wonder. Something else.
He touched my cheek—not soft, but searching—like feeling proof I was real.
“You’re changing,” he murmured. “And I don’t know if that saves us… or destroys us.”
His hand dropped. He turned away before I could speak, barking orders to assess damage, check powder, replace broken planks.
But as I stood trembling on blood-slick wood, one truth pulsed in my bones like tide:
The Kraken knows me. And one day soon—I will know it back.